


Just What He Needed (Afterparty)

by elcasaurus



Series: Just What He Needed [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Escort Service, F/M, Oral Sex, Suits, arrangement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29687712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elcasaurus/pseuds/elcasaurus
Summary: Sephiroth is late for their arranged meeting time. Tifa earns her pay.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart & Sephiroth, Tifa Lockhart/Sephiroth
Series: Just What He Needed [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2188014
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Just What He Needed (Afterparty)

**Author's Note:**

> So. This is porn. Straight porn. They don't do anything in this besides have sex. Please. There's no plot. Just porn.

Tifa glanced at the clock again. He was so late tonight. 

The condo was nice at least. It was tastefully furnished, everything in a clean industrial style. There were edges that looked sharp but felt soft everywhere. He’d bought it a few weeks into their arrangement, and told her finding a new hotel each week was a waste of time. She liked to think of it as an approval of the services she provided. It was in an extremely expensive building high above the rotting pizza, an area she never expected to be rich enough to step foot in, much less have the security codes to. Purchasing a specific place for their activities had other advantages. He could leave her outfits he wanted her to wear and gifts he wanted her to have without having to explain his intentions. The beautiful kitchen was stocked with ingredients for the breakfasts and snacks she made herself on the mornings after. Her favorite lotions and bath salts were lined along the enormous claw tub. He’d even had a small two person walk in sauna installed for her. She administered her own aftercare in absolute luxury.

He’d also installed eye hooks into the ceiling for the ropes he used on her. The bed frame was reinforced steel with a slotted headboard for handcuffs. The shower had an overhead waterfall to accommodate his height, and further reinforced shelving for her to be braced against. Every surface in the condo was intended in some way to be used by him to abuse her. The cupboards were stocked with the healing potions she needed to soften the bruises he put on her body. The Gil he paid for the privilege of leaving those bruises fed half of sector seven.

Tonight’s instructions were fairly simple. He’d left a loose silky chemise for her to wear, no panties. The cut and style of the top kept slipping off her shoulders, threatening to expose her with every movement. It was so short that when she shrugged her shoulders it lifted up to expose her. It felt light and cool on her skin. The subtle pastel green color made the red tones in her eyes pop. Tonight her hair had been washed, conditioned, and brushed out. No elaborate curls, no pins or wraps. Her makeup was toned down to minimalism, tinted moisturizer, waterproof mascara, lip gloss. She wore her usual perfume, which he liked for consistency, and made sure to dab a few drops between her thighs. She supposed this particular fantasy was that she was a girlfriend or mistress, someone who would normally be there waiting for him after living her own busy life. Or perhaps he just liked occasional simplicity. There was no way to tell.

It was almost one am. He was usually right on time at eleven. She chewed the inside of her lip, convincing herself against concern. Where he was and why he was late wasn’t her business. She crossed her legs and pressed her fists into her thighs. She tried not to think about how excited she was to see him. She took the risk of being caught at less than perfect attention to lay back on the couch. Not for the first time she wished she was allowed to play with herself. When he’d first demanded it she’d simply agreed, not considering the implications or that he’d be able to hold her to it. She’d thought he’d only liked the idea of it. When he somehow knew she had cheated within days, he’d given her a memorable beating and then refused to let her cum for weeks after. She shivered at the thought. She didn’t dare disobey him again. Every orgasm that she had until he decided they were done was to be at his approval. By the time every Friday rolled around she was always near frantic. And now he was late. 

She sat back up to attention just in time to hear the quiet tones of the security panel. Finally. Took him long enough. She shooed away any idea of irritation for fear that he could somehow call her on it. She straightened her posture and lifted her chin, concentrating on looking welcoming and attentive for him. The tones repeated again. And once more. There was a pause, and a crunching sound. The door popped open and he stepped through it. 

She let the breath catch in her throat. Even without his heavy armor he was always intimidating. Tonight he was dressed in a tailored black suit and tie that accented the width of his shoulders and the taper of his waist. His long silver hair had been pulled back in a slick braid, but after what must have been a long night was starting to slip loose, leaving his bangs to frame his face. He looked tired and annoyed. He didn’t bother to look at her yet, and instead went to the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water. He tilted his head back to chug the entire thing, and wiped his mouth with the back of his fist. He stumbled and caught himself on the edge of the granite counter top. She realized with a shock of surprise that he was a bit drunk. 

His bright green eyes glanced at her. His pupils had shifted to a cat like vertical, and were dilating in excitement. The alien effect always set her heart racing. She was going to earn her pay tonight. 

“Come here,” he said. His voice was a specific baritone that seemed to slice to her core. She stood up from the couch and cautiously joined him. Without ceremony or further greeting, he buried one hand in her hair and pulled her against him. He leaned down to kiss her, hard. He tasted like gin. His tongue parted her lips and slipped into her mouth, devouring her as though he was starving. She whimpered and stood on her tip toes to lean into the kiss.

His free hand unbuttoned his jacket. She finished it for him, pushing the expensive linen fabric over his shoulders as his lips found her jaw, his teeth closed on her and sucked a new mark of his possession on her throat. She unbuttoned the dress shirt too, and pulled on the tie. His moan was a growl in her ear as his hands circled her waist, lifting her against him. His cock was hard under his slacks, pressing an urgent bulge against her waist. He kissed her again, slower this time, taking his time now to suck on her lower lip, savoring the taste of her as though he actually loved her. 

She pressed her palms against the pure muscle of his chest. His body was flawless, sculpted perfect athleticism made entirely for the purpose of war. She stroked his collar bone, and when he let her mouth go nuzzled his throat. He made an approving sound, his hand returning to the back of her head to lace through her hair. She let her touch drift further over his tightly cut abs and the sharp muscle that led from his hip to below his waistband. His skin was silken soft over the iron physique. She hooked a finger on his belt. She’d need permission to go further. 

He nudged her away just enough to unbuckle his belt and unbutton the slacks. Permission granted. 

She sunk to her knees in front of him and pulled his cock from the confines of the cloth. Like everything else about him it was impressive, thick and long and veined. She often questioned how she was going to deal with it all, but every week she more than managed. He thrust himself against her caressing hand, already pulsing with excitement. She stroked him slowly, testing what mood he was in. His head tilted back with an approving groan. Good, he wanted to be serviced then. 

She continued stroking him, varying the speed and pressure for him, and when he leaned against the counter bent her head to close over one of his testicles. She sucked gently, too much pressure would earn her a cuffing, but just enough to make him suck his breath in a sharp gasp. The feeling of having such a powerful man groaning over her made her shiver. 

He tensed in excitement, and she moved her mouth away to ease him, kissing the base of him where his cock rooted to his body. She waited until he relaxed again before she trailed the tip of her tongue along the throbbing length of him. He reached down to grab her head with both hands and pressed the tip of himself against her mouth. She opened her lips for him and let him slowly thrust into her mouth. She swallowed at just the right moment to relax her gag reflex and let him sink himself down her throat. He gave a louder groan when she bobbed her head on him, slowly at first, then increasing in pressure and timing. Her hands cupped his heavy sack as her thumb gently massaged him through his wiry silver hair. 

His breath was sharp gasps, and his fingers gripped into her hair hard enough that she thought he might rip some out. She moaned around him, wishing she were allowed to slide her free hand between her own legs. Her own body was so wet she was sure she’d be dripping down her thigh in a moment. She backed off just long enough to take a deep breath before closing her mouth on him again. He hissed a sharp cuss as she swallowed around him, coaxing him, sucking him, massaging him. His whole body tensed in that deep electric shock of release as he came into her mouth. His cock pumped into her, and she swallowed every tart drop before it ever had a chance to make a mess. The way he liked it. Clean. 

She looked up to see him biting his lip as he steadied his breath. It had been a good one for him. His braid had nearly come undone in the commotion, leaving strands of his silver hair to brush over his shoulders. He gave a relaxed sigh and pulled her to her feet, and then lifted her onto the counter top. His calloused fingertips brushed the loose chemise from her shoulders to expose her breasts, full and aching. He kissed her again, slowly, savoring her. One hand reached behind her waist to press her body against his, the other hooked her knee over his hip. He nipped at her ear lobe and murmured, “I see you’ve been a very good girl this week.” 

She purred in response. He was so rarely affectionate, and she was basking in his attention. “Yes, sir.” 

He cupped a breast in his massive hand, idly kneading her soft, heavy flesh. “An improvement. I’m pleased.” 

She draped her arms over his powerful shoulders, shifting on the counter to wriggle her body invitingly against him. It had been a very long week for her, waiting for this. His fingertips focused on her erected nipple, pinching it just enough to hurt. 

“I believe my angel deserves a reward,” he murmured against her skin. 

She pressed her lips together and lowered her eyes, complete with a whimper. He had an interesting idea of what a reward is. He chuckled softly, a deep unnerving rumble against her chest, and lifted her from the counter to bring her to the waiting bed. In his arms she weighed nothing at all. He dropped her from high enough that she bounced, and laughed over her as she pushed her hair out of her face and rushed to compose herself. 

He was glorious, standing over her. His body was as flawless as if a master had carved him from perfect stone. He was beautiful, tall and graceful. A god in his prime. His features reminded her of angelic portraits, with his high cheekbones and cherubic lips. Her body twisted at the thought of all the things those lips had done to her. Sephiroth, her favorite nightmare, undid the black silk tie from around his throat and reached for her. 

He pressed her into the bed. She was obedient as he used the tie to fasten her wrists to the headboard, offering herself for his pleasures. Once she was well tied he pulled the belt from his slacks and kicked them the rest of the way off. Her breath caught in her throat and she tugged on her restraints. She felt like she was on fire. 

He folded the belt in half and looked down at her with a wicked smile, admiring her prone body. He grazed the belt between her breasts and over her belly, trailing off when he reached the soft dark mound of hair between her legs. She gave a quiet whine of anticipation, which he chose to reward by sharply cracking the belt over her thigh. She yelped exactly the way he wanted her to, and he bent to kiss her again. 

“How lovely you are, my angel, my sweet girl,” he murmured against her mouth. He trailed his lips down her throat to kiss her clavicle, and further down to kiss between her breast. When she gave an encouraging moan he smacked her other thigh with the belt. She jumped against him with her squeal of pain. These would leave welts. He slid a hand under her bottom to lift her, nudging her legs open as he kneeled between them. He stroked down her thigh over the new welts with the belt, admiring her. He brushed the belt over her sopping wet apex. She flinched, which made him laugh again. 

He braced her hips off the bed with one hand as he pressed the tip of his cock against her. It hadn’t taken him long to recover, he was already as hard as he’d been when she’d first pulled him out. He stroked the head of himself against her, just barely entering her, and when she gave a shuddering, encouraging moan cracked her thigh with the belt. She jumped against him this time, and he buried his whole length into her in a hard, sudden thrust that made her shriek. 

She wrapped her legs tight around his waist and bucked hard against him. He was enormous inside of her, stretching her engorged, wet body to her limits. He pulled out slowly, teasing her, and then thrust again with another hard crack from the belt. She writhed, and wrapped the tie around her fists to grip them, and contracted her body around him. He growled and leaned over her, letting her hips go to brace one arm against the solid bed frame, and thrust hard into her, hard and fast, riding her as intensely as she could handle. 

She was screaming, her body bucking and squeezing around him, and buried her face in his neck when a sudden consuming shuddering orgasm electrified her body. He rode her through it, not pausing for her or slowing in his assault on her body. If anything he picked up speed, never relenting as her orgasm spiraled into bright, dizzy waves. Just when she thought she might pass out he hit her with the belt on her hip, and she let her head drop back and howled. 

He laughed, just barely breathless, and withdrew enough to flip her over onto her knees. She moaned and buried her face in her arms as he stroked the belt over her prone ass. 

“I love seeing you like this, my darling,” he said softly. “You’re worth every gil I spend on you.” 

She wriggled herself at him in response, begging him to come back to her. She didn’t see his grin, but could imagine it as he slid his entire length inside of her again. She moaned into the pillow, shuddering at the new position. He started slower this time, luxuriously sliding himself into her, letting her feel every steel inch of him. She sobbed and gripped the tie, thrusting back at him, begging him to attack her again. She barely felt the hard crack of the belt on her as he rocked into her, picking up the intensity again, slamming into her with every pumping thrust. She was cumming again, another of those deep, rocking, screaming, shattering life changing orgasms that never let up, never stopped, never let her go until he was roaring over her, his hand gripping her hair to pull her against him as he came. He shuddered, exploding inside her with his own release, and finally collapsed,. She gasped for her breath into the pillow, seeing stars. 

It took them both a while to recover. He reached up and untied the silk knots from her wrists, and gathered her to his chest. He smoothed her hair from her face and kissed the sweat from her brow. “Perfect,” he whispered softly, cradling her in his arms as she fell asleep. 

When she finally woke up in the morning, he was gone, as usual. The pillow still smelled like him, mako, sweat, gin. She stetched, feeling every bruise and welt he’d left on her. She rolled over with a sigh, chasing away the satisfied smile. 

It wasn’t a bad way to earn a living. Not at all.


End file.
